Crash, Burn, Fall
by laurelley
Summary: They're coming for him, and he only has a few moments left with his captive to confess his crime and his feelings. Scabior/OC Rated M to be safe


**Crash, Burn, Fall**

**Disclaimer: **None of this belongs to me except Meg, who is my own character. The rest belongs to J.K. Rowling.

The creak of the door awakened Meg with a start, it was classical conditioning by this point, and she awoke when he entered, always. She didn't know why she did it, just that she did. It was probably because she anticipated him coming back to her each night; she never wanted to miss a moment with him.

She moved quickly into a sitting position, the blankets slipping off her bare chest. She made no movement to cover herself; she knew she didn't need to hide herself from him.

As her eyes found his, she noticed how crazed they were, it was so different than what he typically looked like. His eyes, normally tame and tranquil, were wild and incomprehensible.

Livid. Malicious. Enraged. Frantic. Poignant. Brutal. Depraved. Regret. Terror.

She couldn't find a base emotion, the one emotion that all the other ones fed off of. It looked like he had been suffering, or he killed someone. Maybe he was here to kill her.

The door slammed shut and Meg shook with fear, even though she usually had no reason to be afraid when she was with him. He was sweet to her, treated her with decency and respect, never pushing her farther than she wished. He would share secrets with her and snuggle with her after sex, he would bring her chocolates and he gave her clothes to wear when she was alone in the room. It made her feel safe, but she was beginning to think it was all an illusion, a trick to make her feel secure and protected before he tore her world to shreds.

She had never dared to ask him a question, until today, she would normally never ask him anything, "Scabior?"

It seemed to pull him out of his trance, for he stopped breathing heavily and looking around frantically. He stopped all movement and stared at her, his jaw set like he was refraining from calling out to her.

He didn't say anything, just stared into her dark brown eyes.

Her lip trembled, her eyes wandered off like she was searching for the words to say. She was truly terrified in this moment; she couldn't predict his every movement like she normally could. He could be rather unpredictable, but not around her, his every movement around her was romantic and gentle, always leading to love making and soft touches. Today he looked like he could rip her to shreds, or Avada Kedavra her without a second thought.

"What happened?" she asked tentatively.

His eyes flashed, but the emotion was gone before Meg could read it.

"Is-" she gulped, "Everything…okay?"

"Stop it with the bloody questions!" his fist clenched threateningly, causing Meg to subconsciously retreat under the covers. He did not seem to notice her movement though; he looked too out of it to notice anything she did. Something terrible must have happened to him today. He was never like this with her. Never.

He swiftly crossed the room to his desk and unceremoniously draped his leather coat across the back of the chair and kicked off his muddied boots. He pulled out his wand and scourgified them before turning back to Meg, his wand in front of him menacingly.

"I could kill you, so bloody easily, all it would take would be a little swirl with my wand and _two words._ Then you'd be dead. Gone." He waved his hands up in the air in mock surrender; his voice rose "Oh please don't kill me! Please! I'd do anything for you, anything." He turned about and grabbed a liquor bottle, took a giant swig before continuing, "I'll be your bloody whore." Rage was dripping off his tongue in surprising amounts. He threw the bottle to the side; it hit the wall with a loud crash and liquor exploded onto the wall and floor. "I considered it, you know? I took _you_ in, didn't I? I took you into my bed and took care of ya'. I accepted her offer, it was only temporary though, I knew that."

"She didn't," Meg finished, her eyes stinging with his betrayal.

"Shut up you little bint, I ain't done talkin' yet!" He took off his left glove calmly before continuing, she noticed his hands were shaking, "Do you know what I did with er'?" he looked at her, his eyes dancing with excitement and anticipation, she shook her head in response to him, he looked away again and continued, "Took her didn't I? Took her up against a tree, she moaned like a little whore. Trying to pleasure me, but she didn't do anything for me. I didn't like the way she tasted, she didn't taste like you."

He moved towards her, each step he took made Meg tremble. His craziness was terrifying. When he was only a few inches away from her, he stopped and leaned closer to her face, "There I was, comparing a perfectly good fuck to my little prisoner." He stroked her cheek with the back of his right hand, "You've ruined women for me," he smirked, letting his hand drop.

"So I killed her, she didn't even see it coming. She was screaming in ecstasy and then she just croaked and slumped to the ground."

She looked over to the wall to avoid his crystal blue eyes, she watched the liquor still run down the walls, it reminded her of blood.

His hands found their way to her breasts, he began to knead them slowly, his eyes fluttered closed, lost in the feeling of his hands on her warm skin. A little smile graced his lips, "I think I've come to care about you, love." His hands moved off of her tender breasts and moved down to her abdomen, which he began to caress.

His hands moved to her back and he began rubbing circles on her back with his fingers and moving his other hand up and down, causing her to shiver involuntarily.

She was confused, his mood swings were startling, she didn't know what to expect with him. What did he want from her? She knew what she wanted though. She wanted him to suffer for what he just told her, she wanted him to burn, even though she couldn't help but enjoy what he was doing. Through his rage she still managed to cling to the good, it was unhealthy.

"Do you want me to die love?" his hands fell from her back and he gently placed them on her hipbones, his voice filled with regret and his eyes searched for hers. She managed to pull her gaze off the dripping walls and looked straight at him, his eyes had the faintest lines of tears building and the place where his eyes were supposed to be white were red. Bloodshot. "Or do you want me alive, alive to be tortured and burned for what I've done. Do you want that?"

She knew what she wanted, she wanted to scream 'Yes, burn!' but she couldn't stop aching. Her heart felt like it was burning her, it wanted to scream 'No'.

His eyes were darting back and forth quickly, like he was trying to look into both her eyes at the same time to get a better reading on what she was thinking. But he was no Legilimens. He couldn't read minds, but he knew her eyes, her beautiful eyes told him every word she was ever thinking. All he could see now was fear and a hidden desire trying to burn its way through to the surface. She was repressing her feelings, and it hurt him more than words could. He had scared her. She was terrified of him.

"I'm sorry, love." His fists clenched, "I never meant to hurt you, I was just so-" he paused, searching for the right word.

"You were afraid, Scabior." He looked surprised, "You're always afraid, every time I see you leave the room your eyes search the place like your afraid you'll never see it again."

"That's not it. I wasn't afraid. I was angry. Angry at me. I killed that girl. She was…she was only 14 years old. Then I killed her 8 year old sister."

Her lips moved, but she couldn't speak.

"I know, love. I-" his voice broke, tears that were filled to the top of the barrier spilled and began to flow uncontrollably. His shoulders began to shake as he held back sobs. He felt Meg's warm little arms wrap around his back and pull his body towards her; she stroked his back lovingly and held him.

"How could I ever treat you so terribly? How could I kill those girls, I'm not like that…not anymore."

"You never treated me terribly, you made me feel safe. But not-"

"Today," he spat, "I made you fear me today. I made you question everything. I'm a monster."

"You're not," she grasped his shoulders and pulled him up so that his eyes met hers, "Listen to me Scabior, listen. I forgive you. I don't care that you act like a monster, I don't care that you put on a disgusting face in the world and cater to someone like the dark lord. You are a kind soul who just got lost in the war, you survived any way you could, you just…"

"I've killed so many people Meg, I've raped many girls, even some children. I've watched Greyback rip people to shreds and leave them to bleed on the forest floor. I've tortured and destroyed so many lives, and most of the time I didn't care. I don't deserve someone who forgives me for that, I don't deserve you."

"I'm just a mudblood, how could you no-"

"No!" he screamed, "Don't you think that way too, if you do then you're just as bad as the rest of them. There isn't anything superior about being descended from people who marry their cousins, people who kill because of their prejudices. Just because your parents are muggles doesn't mean that you are any less of a human, any less of a witch."

Tears began to flow freely down her cheeks too; she smiled in the midst of them, "Scabior?"

He smiled a little in return, "Yes, love?"

"If I am not inferior because of my blood, then you are not evil. You're not a horrible person, you are not a monster." She let her lips graze his, "You are so much more," their lips met, slowly at first, but then a blinding passion overcame them and they were soon attacking each others lips, fighting for dominance.

A large bang ripped through the night, both heard the noise but neither wanted to separate to see what the sound was caused from.

His lips were the first to pull away, "The ministry is coming. That's why I came back early, I need to go."

"No," she grabbed both sides of his face, "Not without me."

He smiled, "They're coming for me, if they find you with me they'll prosecute you too."

"I won't let them. I can testify for you. I can set you free."

He shook his head, "You can't. You need to go home."

"No. I have no home anymore. Not without you."

"I can't."

He pushed her off of him gently; she fell onto the bed and lay back, letting the tears flow freely. He was already pulling on his boots.

"Don't you dare leave," she cried.

He looked to her, his eyes swimming with tears again. "Look at me, Meg." She took a deep breath before sitting up again and wrapping the blankets around her.

He patted his leather jacket with his right hand which still lay on the back of his chair and smiled regretfully, then looked at her one last time, "I love you, and I'm sorry for today. It wasn't how I wanted to spend my last…the last time with you. I was just…so overwhelmed. I apologize, love. I set you free."

He removed his hand from the jacket and grasped his wand tightly; his knuckles began to turn white. He spun on the spot, and he disappeared with a pop.

He was gone, and Meg was left in a pool of her own sorrow, trying to cling to whatever she could. There was nothing left for her. She rolled herself off the bed and fell to the floor with a loud crash; she crawled out of her bundled blankets and across the floor, and across the broken glass, ignoring the burning pain that came from her hands and legs. She reached the chair where he once stood, touched the soft leather that he wore everyday.

Another loud bang reached her ears, this one was much closer, but she paid no attention to it.

Her fingers grazed over the material, she pulled it from the chair and held it in her shaking, bloodied hands. She smiled slightly, knowing he left the jacket for her to cling to. Maybe it was a message that he would return for her. That one-day he would come back for her and let them be together. He never went anywhere without his coat, it was a part of him, just as she was. He left more than one piece of him behind, which had to mean he would come back.

It was the only hope she could cling to, so she brought the coat to her nostrils and inhaled his musky scent before putting the jacket around her shoulders. Feeling the warmth that still resided in his sleeves made a whole new burst of tears flow, she realized she love him too.

He left his heart behind with her, and as he made his way through the forest alone, he stumbled across the exact place he first saw her. He remembered his heart beating faster and the way his palms began to sweat, this would be where he'd stay. He would build a home here, and maybe, one day he could come back for her, and maybe, just maybe, if she forgave him for leaving her, they could live out the remainder of their lives together in this spot, lost in each other's love.

They both smiled, lost in their blissful imaginations where they could be together.


End file.
